“Yeah.” He looks down, and when he looks up, a smile covers his face. “The offer is still on the table.”
My whole body finally releases the tension that it was holding. I’m about to say something else when he steps into me, closer than he was before. So close our chests almost touch. “We’re getting married,” I say, trying to break the tension that has somehow built between us. My chest rises and falls when he steps in just a touch more.
I look at him. “We’re getting married,” I repeat, and he leans in just a little bit more. I can taste the kiss; I can feel his heat on me. It’s finally going to happen.
“Beau!” Ethan yells his name, making us both take a step back.
“I should bring him this.” He holds up the body wash. “I think we should tell him before we tell anyone else.”
“I agree.” Nodding my head, he turns to walk back to the bathroom but stops five steps in and turns around, looking at me.
“Married.” He smiles, but he doesn’t give me a chance to say anything before he goes into the bathroom. I put out my hand to hold the wall, my knees suddenly buckling under me.
“What the fuck did you do?” I ask myself. “How could you drag him into this?” I walk back to the bedroom and sit on the bed, wiping a tear away from my eye. Forget the fact that I want to marry him. Forget the fact that it’s going to be a sham of a wedding, and I always said I was never going to get married. Okay, fine, I said it because there was no one but Beau who I wanted to be married to.
He stands there in the doorway, watching me. “It’s not that bad.” He tries to joke, but the look on his face says that he’s not joking at all. His eyes almost look angry. He’s probably pissed that he has to marry me, putting an end to all the extra activities he does.
“Um,” I say. “I know that it’s going to be a marriage of convenience at this point.” I try to swallow, but it feels like I have a lump in my throat. “But the other women …”
“What other women?” He folds his arms over his chest.
I roll my eyes now. “You don’t have to pretend, Beau.” My thumb taps my index finger. “I’m a bartender. Do you know that means I’m almost a shrink? I serve people alcohol, and with that, they tell me their problems, or their secrets, depending on who it is.”
“Okay,” he says, not getting where I’m going.
“You’re …” I point at him. “Well, you’re active with women.” His eyebrows pinch together. “I’ve heard it in detail.”
“You heard in detail that I was active with women?” He asks the most awkward question he’s ever asked me.
“I mean, I’ve heard a couple of stories.” My legs starts to move up and down, and he sees it. “I never ask. I wouldn’t do that. It’s your private business.”
“From who?” he asks, crossing his ankles.
I look out the window now, blinking away the stinging of tears that are threatening to come out. I’m about to answer him when the bathroom door opens, and Ethan comes out, walking to us with a towel wrapped around his waist. “Mom.” He calls my name, walking past Beau, not even realizing that he just saved me. “Smell me.” He puts his neck next to my nose. “I smell like Uncle Beau.” I smile at him. “Can you buy me this from now on?”
“Aren’t you a bit too young for that?” I look at him, and he smirks.
“Mom, I’m going to be ten soon,” he says.
“In two years, buddy,” I remind him, and he looks defeated.
“Why don’t you go get dressed?” Beau says. “Your mom and I want to talk to you about something.”
“Okay.” He turns, walking out of the room.
“We are going to have maybe two minutes before he’s dressed,” Beau says. “So we are going to have to table this discussion.”
“I would rather not continue it,” I say, and he shakes his head.
“That isn’t an option.” I know just by his tone it isn’t a suggestion. “Things need to be said.” He walks away now.
My stomach rumbles, and I have to put my hand to it. “This should be fun.”
Ethan comes out of his room in less than two minutes, wearing his Spiderman pjs with a white T-shirt. “I’m ready,” he announces, so I get up and walk to the door.
“I’m downstairs!” Beau shouts up. Ethan and I both walk down the stairs and find him in the family room. A bottle of whiskey sits on the counter, and I look over at him, seeing that he has a glass in front of him. This is a mistake, I think to myself. There has to be another way to do things. There has to be something else that we can do if just the thought of being with me and only me has him drinking. I walk to the couch, and I’m about to sit down when Beau looks at me. “Come sit next to me.” I walk over to him and sit next to him.